


Camelot

by whovian1243



Category: I guess - Fandom, Merlin (TV), SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Actor Isak Valtersen, Alternate Universe - Theatre, And that's descriptive, Bipolar Disorder, Depression, Director Even, M/M, Manic Episode, No direct smut, but no actual sex, but they make out, king arthur - Freeform, sorcerer merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 00:15:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13846023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whovian1243/pseuds/whovian1243
Summary: "I'm King Arthur. Literally."Isak is fresh out of acting school, and applying for jobs left and right. When he astounds the renowned Even Bech Næsheim, he instantly acquires the role of Arthur Pendragon.He's drawn to Even, he can't deny. However, Arthur is invested in Merlin, he has to be, for the sake of the play. Isak has to separate himself from his character, whilst juggling all the shit life throws at him.





	1. Chapter One.

**Author's Note:**

> Woah. I've worked so goddanm hard on this fic, and now it's finally done! This is my contribution to the SKAM Big Bang Event! 
> 
> I want to thank my lovely, amazing, talented, far-better-than-I-am betas!
> 
> [Mack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvensDramaticShenanigans/pseuds/EvensDramaticShenanigans) has honestly been keeping me sane these past few weeks. While I've been panicking, she's been there for me every step of the way, and fixing all of my mistakes. She doesn't miss a single fucken comma, that one <3
> 
> [Sue!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julieseven/pseuds/Julieseven) Sue has been a godsend in keeping my spirits up. She's helped me get my ass into gear and write the story, and made me smile when I was feeling down because she's just such a lovely human being!
> 
> I'd also like to thank the wonderful people that have educated me about bipolar disorder. There's [Alyssa,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelordvoldemort/pseuds/thelordvoldemort) who suffers from Bipolar II. Her help has been invaluable in how having an episode feels, and how to accurately portray that, and do it with respect.
> 
> There's [Julia,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twinklylightseverywhere/pseuds/Twinklylightseverywhere) a psychology student, who's given me videos and links and talked with me about the science behind Bipolar Disorder, which was a massive help and I am forever grateful to these wonderful people.
> 
> Last, but not least, my artist! [Anat](https://glgrdsklechhh4.tumblr.com/) has been working so hard on their stuff and it's gonna come out lit as fuck!! I can't wait to see what they've got planned!!!
> 
> Anyway, hope you all enjoy it. It's not the worst thing I've ever written, so who knows, right? <3

The auditorium was large, thousands of plush, small seats filling the walls and centre of the room. Dark red curtains were tied up on either side of the stage, which was elevated with spotlights shining toward the back wall.

Isak tugged his beanie off his stubborn, golden curls and looked around in wonder. An aspiring actor, the twenty-two year old had just completed a degree in theatre studies and was now looking for work. Hearing about this play, directed by the renowned Even Bech Næsheim, was a stroke of good luck, and he’d decided to try his hand.

“Hei!” Somebody with a clipboard in their hands tugged on his elbow, tearing his gaze from the building. “My name is Aleksander! Can I get yours, please?”

“Uh, sure. Isak Valtersen.”

“Valtersen! We have you right here, please take a seat with the others, just the front five rows there. Thanks for auditioning, the casting will start shortly!”

Isak nodded, and Aleksander wandered off, talking to the next eager actor to walk in the door. He made his way over to the seats the assistant had indicated, but before he could take out his phone, he was accosted by the person sitting next to him.

"Halla, my name’s Julian Dahl. Which role are you auditioning for?”

He stuck out his large, pale hand. Isak took it.

“Isak. I’m trying out for King Arthur.”

“Sweet. I’m going for Merlin.”

Isak nodded, unsure of what to say next. “Sounds fun,” he decided upon, and nodded toward Julian, who smiled back, brown eyes twinkling, and turned to a woman who’d taken a seat in the row in front of him.

At the podium stood someone with a tall, lanky frame. His blond hair was swept up in a ridiculous quiff, and his blue eyes sparkled, shining so brightly that Isak could see them from ten metres away. He clapped his hands together and spoke, his deep voice filling the auditorium without the need of a microphone.

“Hei everyone! My name is Even Bech Næsheim. I’m the director of Camelot this year, and I’m thrilled that you all could make it today. As you’re all auditioning for either Merlin or Arthur today, we’re going to get you to read a couple scenes, get a feel for how you act in a variety of situations. We’re going to go alphabetically, by last name. First up is Jorgen Andreassen.”

A boy, no more than nineteen, stood up and walked on stage. His voice trembled as he took the microphone and spoke to the room of fifty applicants and six judges, one of which was Even Bech Næsheim. “My name is Jorgen, and I am auditioning for the role of Arthur Pendragon.”

Isak rolled his eyes and switched on his phone. It was going to be a long day.

Nearly an hour had gone by before Julian, the overly social guy from before, was called up. Isak paid little more attention than he had for any other applicant, but he did note that the guy was quite fluent and expressive. He clearly had a passion for acting, and he was the best candidate by far for his chosen role.

Isak went back to his phone, but kept half an eye and half an ear on the man up on stage.

Several more hours went by, and at around the time they were auditioning the K’s, Isak snuck out for some food and returned around the R’s. He stole a pamphlet from the front desk and perused that before-

“Isak Valtersen.”

Isak looked up from the novella of a brochure, into the kind eyes of Even Bech Næsheim. Only three other candidates were left, all looking bored out of their brains.

Isak stepped up onto the stage, heart rate accelerating only slightly.

“My name is Isak Valtersen, and I am auditioning for the role of King Arthur Pendragon.” He spoke loudly and clearly, fighting a small smile. This was what he loved.

Even nodded, a grin on his face but Isak just assumed that he exuded a sunny disposition all the time and that it actually had nothing to do with Isak himself.

Even passed him a couple of pages, and Isak muttered a “thanks” before flipping the document open. The play was well written, setting the scene immediately on a training field with King 

Arthur and a couple of his knights. The scene, which was a couple pages long, seemed to be pure banter between friends, and Isak nodded comfortably.

“Are you ready?” Even asked a minute later. Isak slowly drew his gaze from the page to Even’s eyes, and his breath hitched. He hadn’t, until this point, realised just how beautiful Even Bech Næsheim actually was.

He was stunning, his blonde hair radiant with a million different shades of gold. What captivated Isak the most, however, was his blue eyes that sparkled as he smiled that stunning smile of his that shone brighter than the sun.

Even quirked an eyebrow, and Isak mumbled a quiet “shit” that made Even chuckle. “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s do this!”

Whenever Isak was standing on the stage, he was no longer Isak Valtersen. He became the character he was portraying, pulling a façade over his mind and personality like a jumper over his shoulders. He glanced back at the script in hand and opened the scene, jumping straight into the middle of a scene.

“Hey, Merlin, come over here.”

There were multiple stage assistants placed around the stage, all dressed in black. One came forward, looking eager. Isak had no idea how, after fifty times, the guy still looked like he was having the time of his life.

“Yes, sire?” The guy playing Merlin spoke, a mocking glint to his eyes.

“Fetch me my lunch, would you?”

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “No please? Sire, you treat me like a servant.”

Isak scoffed. “You are a servant, Merlin. Just because I don’t treat you like filth doesn’t mean you’re not filth.”

“At least I’m not a stubborn prat.”

“Merlin. Food.”

“You’re not going to rise to the bait? Oh wow, am I at liberty to call you clot-pole? Will you just watch me tiredly if I call you dollop-head? Can I-”

“What does that even mean?”

“In two words?”

“Please.”

“Uhh…” Merlin paused, clearly thinking, or at least pretending to.

“Prince Arthur,” he said, a mere half second before Isak mumbled, “don’t hurt yourself.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“A new title, all for me? What happens if I die? Who’s the ‘Dollop-Heir’?”

Merlin laughed. “Me, of course.”

“So it’s not an insult? Thank you, I appreciate the compliment.”

Merlin looked confused for a split second, before mumbling a small ‘fuck’ under his breath. “I’m getting your food now, sire. You wish it here, I presume?”

Isak laughed, a smile still on his face as Merlin ducked out the door, head and shoulders still leaning in.

“Yes, I have mountains of paperwork to get done,” he indicated towards the piles on his desk, “and I don’t much fancy walking halfway across the castle to the dining rooms.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “No matter that I have to walk twice that to bring your food here.”

Isak raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Merlin? Would you like to swap? You can do all of this writing and communicating and I’ll go and carry something, yeah?”

“Well, I do have a way with words-” Isak threw a cushion at Merlin, who ducked out of the way just in time.

“Be quick, Merlin!” He called, and picked up the pen lying on the makeshift desk.

 

The second the scene ended, Isak stood, breaking character and found Even smiling to himself as he quickly jotted down a few notes. Once he set his pencil down he applauded lightly, turning his smile towards Isak. “That was wonderful. Really funny to watch.” Isak suddenly wished he’d paid more attention to the other candidates - what did Even say that to all of them?

“We’re just going to get you to do one more scene. Here, take the script.” Even handed him another sheet of paper. “Good luck, Isak.”

“Thanks,” Isak smiled, and flipped through the pages quickly, before launching into Scene Two.

“You’re not serious.” One of the stage assistants, taking on the role of Gawain, read from the script without any enthusiasm or realism. Isak raised an eyebrow, but he supposed that they weren’t the ones auditioning.

It still killed the mood.

“Of course I am. We’re coming with you, Arthur, because otherwise you’ll die.”

“That’s unlikely.”

“You’re going by yourself.” Another assistant spoke up, in the role of Lancelot.

“That’s not true. Merlin’s coming with me.”

Gawain laughed, a harsh sound dripping with sarcasm. “Merlin? What in God’s damned hell do you think Merlin is going to do? He’s a twig!”

Isak fumed, channeling everything he had into feeling what Arthur would be feeling. He really was invested in Arthur’s character now.

“He hasn’t died yet, after years and years of danger! I trust Merlin with my life, and considering some of our backgrounds aren’t that dissimilar to his, I would not be too hasty to judge him.”

Isak’s tone took on a regal sound. He stood up straighter, clutching the fake sword they’d given him at his side and glared at Gawain for added effect, as the sleight against poor heritage was directed to him.

Gawain bristled.

“I know you wish to come because of love, because of compassion. But it is irrelevant because I must complete this task unaided.”

“You just said Merlin was coming with you!” Percival cried.

Isak opened his mouth slightly, then closed it. “Ah.” He tried for a little banter. “Merlin won’t be any help anyway. He’ll be company, and he’ll carry my stuff.”

The knights didn’t look impressed.

Isak fixed them with a glare.

“You are my knights. My employees. Technically, some of you probably should be coming with me,” Isak paused, and took a deep breath, “but you are also my friends.” He fixed the three men with an imploring look, begging them to understand why he couldn’t let them come on one of the most dangerous missions they had ever tried to tackle. “I know you defy my orders out of love, but, I enforce them for that same reason.”

A single tear was coaxed out of Isak’s left eye, the finishing touch which had Even’s eyes widening.

“I love you. You are my men. My loyal, loving men. And I cannot allow you to endanger yourselves, when the risks far outweigh the benefits as they do now.”

Isak turned to the back of the stage, bowing his head. His foam sword propped his body up.

He threw one last glance over his shoulder, toward the audience.

“I’m sorry.”

Defying the script clutched in his hands, Isak walked straight toward the back of the stage and through the divide in the curtains.

 

When he popped his blonde curls back through the fabric, he was met with stunned faces. Then, altogether, they broke out in raucous applause.

“Isak…” Even looked stunned. “That was…”

Isak grinned shyly. “Was it alright?”

Even raised his eyebrows incredulously. “Alright? Isak, that was fucking brilliant, and that exit was actually really cool, thanks for the tip man.”

He scrawled a note on his clipboard and added Isak’s name to it. He flipped over a couple pages back and called out the next person on the list.

“You’re free to go,” he added to Isak. “We’ll do call-backs in a week or so - actually take my number for it, I hope to see you there.” He smiled, holding his hand out for Isak’s phone.

Isak nodded, and Even put his number in. He passed it back, still beaming.

Isak grinned back. There was something about Even that made him feel both completely at ease, yet at the same time very nervous.

The guy next on the list walked up beside Isak and gave him a tight-lipped smile. Isak smiled back, still giddy from how well his audition had gone, and practically skipped out of the theatre.

He opened his phone to find the contact Even had left and laughed when he saw that he’d named himself Baz Luhrmann.

Why that was funny, Isak didn’t know. He didn’t know who Baz Luhrmann was either, but Even had said it, so it must have been hilarious.

Hey Baz, it’s Isak. Funny I don’t recall giving my number to someone with such a strange name, but hi all the same.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two <3 Hope you enjoy :D

Isak was chilly. It was a cool fall day, temperatures reaching eight degrees celcius. He woke up, stretched, then burrowed back under his covers.

Tuesdays and Wednesdays were Isak’s heaven days. No work, no reason to wake up early. The coffee shop he worked at, Kaffebrenneriet, paid well, and as he took shifts that lasted most of the day other days, he didn’t really need to worry about money. If he landed an acting job, that’d be enough money for a while.

Speaking of acting, it had been ten days since the audition and Isak still hadn’t heard anything, despite the fact he’d been bantering with Even the whole while. Even had been concerned that   
Isak hadn’t known who Baz was and had spent the past week “educating” him about his wondrous masterpieces.

He clicked on his phone and scrolled back over their previous texts, a smile on his face because Even spoke over text exactly how he did in real life, until a notification from the man himself came up on the screen.

Dear Isak, it began. We are pleased to inform you that you’ve been selected for call-back auditions. Yours will take place on Onsdag the 5th of Oktober, at approximately 14.30. Please respond to this text to confirm the date. Thank you.

Isak laughed, clutching his phone and smiling. “Thank you, yes!” He shouted.

One of his roommates, Eskild, came rushing in. “Baby Gay, did something happen?”

Isak smiled, not even mad at Eskild for not knocking like he usually would have been.

“I got accepted for call-backs! I might be King Arthur!”

Eskild gasped. “Linn! Noora! Come in here, our favourite grumpy gay is going to be King Arthur!”

Noora was the first in. She came running, red lipstick half-applied. “You got the role! Isak, that’s incredible-”

Isak shushed her, saying “Eskild’s over excited. I’ve been called back. I might be King Arthur. But, by the way Even reacted to my audition I think I have a pretty good chance of getting the role.”

“Even?” Noora looked at him like it was Christmas. “Even Bech Næsheim? You’re on a first name basis with the director of modern Romeo and Juliet?”

“Well, he introduced himself to all of us as Even, so. There’s nothing between us, I promise.”

Noora looked disappointed. “Oh. Okay, well congratulations! I need to go.” She left without another word, and Eskild hugged Isak before walking out himself. “Good job, baby gay, we’re so proud of you!”

Isak responded to the text in the positive and sighed happily.

 

“Hey Noora!” Isak yelled some hours later. “If you’re heading out to buy your fishcakes, can you bring me some?”

“Fine, Isak! Eskild? Linn? Need anything?” She yelled out, to an eager response from Eskild.

“Yes! I need two different types of incense, and these cute pants I saw in the catalogue, and maybe you could get me some more eyeshadow? This one looks nice, doesn’t it? Baby gay, come here, you guru needs your advice for a change!”

Isak ambled out into the lounge, tired and confused as to why the fuck Eskild thought he’d know anything about makeup. The adrenaline rush from before had faded somewhat and left him worried for what was to come, whether Even was going to choose him to play King Arthur.

 

Sometime in the evening all of Isak's friends piled through the door for the party Noora had been convinced to host, their arms full of snacks and beer. 

By now, they'd nearly polished off the last of the chips Magnus had brought, and the pack of beer Jonas had lugged in was dwindling in numbers. The only thing they weren't running out of   
yet was the weed, which Isak was more than thankful for. “God!” Isak shouted over the loud music, straining his vocal cords so that Jonas could hear him. “These lights are so deafening! Also pass the weed.”

“That’s not how it works, Issy, light can’t be deafening.”

“Huh? I can’t hear you mate. These bloody lights, chuck me the bong!”

Jonas rolled his eyes and passed it over the complaining faces of Magnus and Mahdi. “You’ll get it in a minute, shut the fuck up.”

The four boys were camping out, squashed in the laundry room of the kollektiv, passing Mahdi’s weed back and forth. Noora was coerced into hosting the party by one of the girls in her group of friends, most likely Vilde. Isak found himself grateful that Eva usually hosted these things, he was a bit frazzled at the edges and it was only 21.

“Isak! Dude, are you even here? Give me the weed!” Mahdi was waving a hand in front of his face, and Isak suddenly realised he’d been crushing the makeshift bong (it was really just a water bottle) in his fist.

“Sorry, dude, take it.” 

Mahdi snatched it with a look that Isak could only describe as a what-the-fuck-Isak look. It happened more regularly than you might imagine.

“Guys! Why did we even stop talking about where I went wrong with Anita!”

Jonas, Isak, and Mahdi exchanged mocking looks of confusion.

“Who’s Anita?”

Magnus looked at them in despair as they all stood up, the weed having just run out and thus they had no more reason to stay squashed in the uncomfortably warm laundry room.

“Lets go boys, I need to hook up with someone,” Jonas said, holding the door open and walking with a swagger in his step.

“Agreed. Isak, find a cute guy to fuck, you need it.”

And Isak agreed, trying to recall the last time he’d had good sex with someone and coming up blank. “Sure mate. Good luck.”

Mahdi gave an exaggerated wink and left the room, and suddenly Isak was struck with the memory of Even trying to wink and failing miserably and the tightness in his chest that followed. 

He didn’t understand any of it, so he tried to shake it out of his system. He walked out of the room to Magnus’s enraged squeal of offence and sought out the nearest somewhat attractive male to distract himself.

 

As Isak stumbled up the stairs to the main room, he felt a small tap on his arm. Turning around, he caught sight of a dark haired teenager with heavily hooded eyes. He raised an eyebrow and jerked his head slightly toward the door next to them. “Anders,” he said, smirk on his face as he turned the handle.

Despite the guy being slightly taller than Isak (always a bonus), and exquisitely handsome, Isak found himself noticing things that made him unattractive, things he didn’t really care for. Anders wasn’t blonde, for starters. His dark eyes were beautiful but they didn’t sit quite right with Isak. He was very quiet, not saying much at all, and Isak suddenly longed for the creative tangents and spiels that Even often went on, and- Even?

Isak wasn’t going to deny that Even was attractive, but thinking of him when he had someone who was the complete opposite in his grasp?

Isak shook his head and tried to dispel thoughts of him, but as Anders led him into the closet he couldn’t help but think that Even would be more courteous and fuck him on a couch at least. Anders’ eyes didn’t twinkle in the way that Even’s did and he was silent. Isak found himself removing himself from Anders’ grasp and muttering a quick apology. He needed more to drink.

Seven more shots down the hatch and Isak felt ready to try again. He sought after Anders, even stumbling down the stairs to the cupboard from earlier, yet to no avail. He was so plastered he latched himself onto the first attractive male lining the halls, but when he grinned up at him all he could see were his dark eyes and how unlike Even’s they were, so he found himself back in the kitchen when Eskild walked in.

“Baby gay, what’re you doing? That’s enough vodka, honestly, this isn’t Russia.”

Isak moaned as Eskild pulled the bottle from his brittle grasp, but he was too tired to fight much more.

“Even,” Isak mumbled as Eskild pulled him to his feet. “Why won’t he leave me alone?” 

“Who’s Even?” Eskild whispered consolingly, as Isak sounded as though he was distraught. “Where is he?”

“I dunno, he won’t leave my head. I just wanna fuck somebody and he won’t let me!”

“Baby gay, calm down, nobody’s here, and you’re too drunk to fuck anyone. I’m taking you to your room, sweetie.”

“I thought-” Isak hiccoughed and belched. Eskild scrunched his nose but didn’t say anything. “I thought if I drank I’d forget about him”

“And it didn’t work?” 

Despite his state of consciousness, Isak fixed Eskild with a withering glare. “Obviously not.” 

“Okay, okay, calm down baby gay,” Eskild muttered, picking up the bottles littered at Isak’s feet. “Let’s get you to bed, it’s already three in the morning.”

“No,” Isak complained. “Need to fuck.”

Eskild laughed. “It’s a Tuesday, Isak, you have the rest of the week to party and hook up. Come to bed.”

Isak reluctantly agreed and, upon releasing the tension in his body, promptly passed out in Eskild’s arms.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter number three bois

Isak walked into the theatre, nodded to Aleksander and took a seat considerably closer to the stage than last time he was here. The room had about ten actors in it, including the guy who had talked to him last time, Julian. He barely got a nod and a smile before Even walked in, carrying about twenty folders with a massive coffee cup perched on top, looking like they were all about to fall out of his arm. Even, enraptured in conversation with the guy on his left, didn’t notice and when the folders tipped, Isak jumped up and caught them before they hit the ground,   
Even’s coffee having been snatched when he realised what had happened.

“Nice save, superman.” Even’s deep voice was fond and grateful, and when Isak looked up he was smiling that golden grin that made the world seem a tiny bit less evil and made Isak’s day a thousand times more bearable an- what.

Can’t have that. Time for sass.

“No problem, useless bystander.”

Even choked on his frappadickabullshittyfuckacino or whatever it was and smiled at Isak with a foamy line across his upper lip.

Isak’s eyes were drawn there as Even licked it off, and he blushed and dropped his gaze to the folders clasped in his arms. He rearranged them, straightening them as quickly as he could before handing them back to Even.

“Thank you, Isak.” Even looked sincere, and Isak nodded with a half-smile on his face. Unsure of what should come next, Isak scampered back to his seat, blushing.

He did not have a crush on Even. Nope.

He always fell for people too fast, before he even really got to know them. Fuck, he didn’t know if he’d even be seeing Even again after today.

“Alrighty, people! If you could just pay attention for a minute, I’ll explain the drill. Basically, we’re going to be doing a similar thing to last time, except we’re having interviews too! We don’t normally do this, but we need to find out a bit more about you than your application tells us and how fit you are for the role we’ll cast you as. Don’t worry, they’re not stressful in the least, just a chat with me and my buddy Yousef here,” he indicated the guy on his left, who smiled and waved as excitably as you’d expect for a friend of Even’s, “and they’ll be individual. We’ll do scenes whilst the interviews are going on, so as not to keep you waiting doing nothing for hours on end. Drinks and snacks are on the table there - don’t eat them all before lunchtime - and we’re set! Could I possibly bring Kristofer Anders in now?”

Isak sighed and opened his phone, but before three minutes passed he heard an excited “Halla!” that made him look up from the Hearthstone game he was in the middle of.

It was Julian Dahl.

“Hei,” Isak responded, unsure of why the dark-haired man was here.

“I saw you last time, even though you were near the end. I left my jacket here and didn’t realise until much later that I’d forgotten it, and I came in as you were doing the whole ‘I love you guys’ thing, and it was honestly one of the most beautiful performances I’ve ever seen. Either you’ve got the role for sure, or I’m way out of everyone’s league.”

He laughed, and Isak wracked his brains for the memory of what Julian’s audition was like.

“Nah man, yours was really good too. I thought you really put a lot of emotion, a lot of passion in your voice and movements. You can really tell how much you care about acting.”

Julian smiled brightly. “Thanks, Isak. I appreciate it.”

 

Julian looked like he wanted to say more, but before he could Isak’s name was being called. “Isak? Isak Valtersen?” Even poked his head out of the office and Isak stood up, shooting Julian an apologetic look as he left his meagre possessions behind. “Just this way Isak, thanks.”

He was led into a small office that consisted of very little furniture other than a singular table in the center and two chairs sitting on opposite sides of the door, one occupied by Yousef. Even walked around and took a seat next to him, pulling out the chair and smacking into the bookshelves littered behind him.

“Shit,” he muttered, then looked back up at Isak with pink cheeks, as though slightly embarrassed by his slip-up. Isak just chuckled, a smile on his face that was exacerbated by nerves.

Even grinned too, blue eyes meeting green, before Yousef interrupted them.

“Alright, Even Bech Næsheim swore, can we queue the shocked gasps now?” When none came forth, he rolled his eyes. “Don’t come complaining to me later. Anyway, Isak, auditioning for the role of King Arthur! Exciting, huh?”

Isak looked down at his lap, remembered that theatre people were meant to be outgoing, looked back up toward Yousef, and said that yes, it was exciting.

“I’ve never had a real acting job before. I was a side character in a TV show when I was sixteen, but nothing other than that.”

“Sounds interesting. Have you studied theatre before?”

These types of questions went on for a few minutes, before Even asked him, “Why do you act, Isak?”

This stumped Isak for a while. “It’s… It’s always been a side passion of mine. Pretending to be other people, tying yourself up in a different persona, it’s always appealed to me.” Even nodded, eyes imploring Isak to continue. “I used to want to be a scientist, in medicinal research particularly, but then I tried for this acting job because a couple of my friends were auditioning for it, and, well, my love blossomed from there.”

Isak winced at the cliché ending. Even smiled, though, and wrote something down on a piece of paper.

Yousef looked over at what it was and rolled his eyes.

“Have you ever seen Romeo + Juliet, Isak?” Even’s question confused Isak.

“Your version?” Isak was sort of ashamed to say that right after Noora mentioned it he instantly googled the film. He was blown away by it’s cinematography, but he didn’t know how much of that he could say without sounding like a suck up. “Yeah, my roommate loves it, and when I let slip you were the director of this play she forced me on the couch. But no it was fantastically done, I really loved it.”

Even’s eyes widened, a massive smile and a blush finding its way onto his face. 

“Isak, that’s so sweet, that means so much to me. Thank you so much, and tell your roommate thanks as well. That really made my day that you even knew I’d done that. But no, I meant Baz   
Luhrmann’s 1996 edition.”

“Oh.” Isak blushed. “Whoops. Um, can’t say I have.”

“Really? You haven’t seen the wonderful, incredible, brilliance that is Baz Luhrmann’s 1996 edition of Romeo and Juliet, aka the only version worth watching.”

Isak huffed a laugh. “Besides yours, I presume?”

“No, as a matter of fact. Mine pales in comparison to his. You’re the only applicant who hasn’t seen it, you know.”

Even’s eyes were guileless, big and blue and beautiful, and Isak was inclined to believe him save for Yousef’s shake of the head.

“Even, stop it. He doesn’t need to be a movie snob like you to be an actor.”

“A movie snob? Me?” Even looked mockingly astounded at the implication. “I resent that term very much.”

“I once binged watched about four Adam Sandler movies in a row and actually enjoyed it,” Isak supplied helpfully.

Even actually looked nauseous. After his hushed “Please tell me you’ve at least seen Pretty Woman?” the three of them started laughing, and couldn’t stop.

“You are a movie snob!” Isak cried, high-fiving Yousef. “You really are!”

Even hung his head in shame as Yousef crowed, and Isak settled back in his chair, smiling broadly and feeling completely at ease with the two of them, their banter playful and familiar, like they’d known each other for years.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this is the fastest ive ever updated a fic go me

“Okay, Isak. Stand-”

“Here?” Isak had anticipated Even’s move, his brain working along the same lines of thought. He didn’t need to, knowing that Even was more than capable of producing the best show possible. He just wanted to impress him a bit.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“The audience can’t see my face from that way, and as this scene focuses on Arthur’s emotions rather than Nimueh’s, it’s a better option. Also, you can cover Eva in her sheet thing to make her look less corporeal, without it affecting me.”

Even looked impressed. Score, Isak thought. 

“Nicely done, Isak. You should be my assistant.”

“What, you’d rather have me off stage?” Isak took on an overly cocky tone, to which Eva laughed.

“Even, stop complimenting him. He’s getting too much of an ego.”

Even muttered something, smiling at Isak, but before Isak could ask what it was he followed up with, “True. But no, Isak, whilst you’re brilliant backstage, you’re even better on. You’re my King Arthur, stay that way.”

Isak choked. His cheeks turned slightly pink and he looked down at his script.

 

“Fuck,” Even muttered, dragging his hands down his face. There was a problem in the script that he hadn’t noticed, and everyone had been here for hours trying to work out this kink.

“Guys, it’s late. You should all go home, I’ll try and fix it tonight,” Even called out, and everyone scrambled to pick up their things before he changed his mind. Isak stayed, however, something compelling him to help Even. Even was looking worried, and Isak didn’t want to leave him alone in this state as Yousef had left with the crowd.

“See you Isak!” Julian called, clapping him on the shoulder before waltzing out.

“Um, bye,” he muttered distractedly, Even’s hair falling in front of his eyes and taking Isak’s already limited attention from the conversation.

Once everyone else had left, he made his way to the table. He muttered a soft “hey,” as he approached it and pulled a chair out.

Even started, but smiled and relaxed as he saw who it was.

“Isak, what’re you still doing here?”

 

Isak shrugged, suddenly self conscious. He didn’t even think about a reason, but he pulled one out of thin air nonetheless. 

“Uhm, it’s my character. I thought I could help act out the scene and make sure it works off paper too.”

Even’s smile lit up the room. “That’s so kind of you Isak. I’d be glad to have the help, come around, sit next to me.”

Isak scooted his chair around the table, making sure he left a bit of space between them. Even pushed his chair closer, moving his arm practically on top of Isak’s to put the script in the middle.

Isak’s heart quickened inexplicably, but he focused on the paper in front of him before he did anything stupid. It was littered with highlights and scribbles, it was basically indecipherable.

“Okay, Even, can you print off a new script? It’s not going to work if we can’t read anything.”

Even chuckled, running his hand through his hair.

“Sorry. Guess I’ve just been stressed about this.”

“It’s fine, you don’t need to apologise. Now I’ll grab my copy and we can work off that.”

He leaned over Even to grab the script from the other side of the table, muttering a “sorry” as he did so. Even’s breath was loud in his ear, controlled until it hitched before he said “it’s fine,” faster than normal. Isak’s heart quickened but he decided not to read into it, opening his script and placing it in between them.

 

“So what about if I’m standing here? That way when Merlin’s acting cagey he can turn toward the audience but still away from Arthur.”  
In the space of five hours, they’d moved approximately two steps forward. Isak hated rewriting things, because then you had to comb through the whole script making sure there were no inconsistencies. And with Even, that process was a thousand times more meticulous because he had to make sure that nothing was out of place, that there were no loose ends.

“No, Isak, because then you have to turn the other way. It looks stupid if you both face the audience but you both have to. It doesn’t work.”

“They don’t need to see my face. I’ll over exaggerate putting my head in my hands, no biggie. That way when Arthur accuses Merlin of liking him, which is why he distrusts Guinevere, I can turn back to him and nothing’s missed.”

Even sighed, facing Isak with a frown. He rubbed his hands over his eyes, pulling them down his face. “Let’s act it out. It might work better that way.”

He took the script in his hands, squinted to make out which notes to disregard, and turned to Isak. 

“Sire, I don’t believe you should wed Guinevere. You barely know her! All you’re going off of is instinct.”

Isak scoffed. “Is it merely because she’s a peasant? You’re one too, don’t forget, just because you have a position in the Royal Palace doesn’t make you better.”

Even made a ridiculous face, possibly trying to emulate outrage, and Isak burst out laughing.

“Sorry, sorry. You just look so funny! I’ll focus now,” he chuckled and coughed, eyeing Even with a small smile on his face.

Even smiled as well. “I wasn’t trying to insinuate that. I’d rather you marry her than some princess, but, well…” he trailed off. “I just don’t think you should be marrying anyone at this point.”

Isak rolled his eyes. “And why is that, Merlin? You don’t think I’m old enough or something? Twenty two is a perfectly normal age to get married, you’re overreacting.”

“Not to someone you’ve known for three months,” Even muttered. “Anyway, it’s not like my opinion matters. You’re doing it regardless.” The corners of his mouth turned down, and he closed up, eyes facing the floor. Despite Even’s earlier dramatics, Isak was surprised at how well he acted the part of a pining friend.

“Yes, Merlin, I’ve finally got father’s, well, not quite blessing, but it’ll do. I’m marrying Guinevere, end of story.” Isak turned to walk away, but then rounded on Even. “That is, unless you have a better idea of whom I should marry?”

Even gulped, a slight tinge of terror in his eyes. Isak was blown away once again by the raw talent that Even was displaying. Isak bit his lip before continuing.

“Well? Merlin?” 

There was supposed to be tension, and Even had no trouble providing it. He was so talented that Isak could feel the way he was bringing the script to life. But there was something more to it too. Something so inexplicably them that it took Isak's breath away.

“Should I marry you instead? Would you like that, Merlin?”

“Why yes, Isak, that way I could - Fuck, I mean Arthur! Sorry!” Even clapped a hand to his mouth and let out a small laugh, obviously shocked.

Isak however, was reeling. He had no idea what that could possibly mean, and it made his heart quicken. He realised he’d been staring at Even for a good ten seconds now, so he laughed to lighten the mood and all of a sudden he couldn’t stop.

Even joined in soon after, and both of them were rolling on the floor.

“You said me! That’s hilarious!” Isak sobbed. “I’m so fucking sleep deprived!” 

Even nodded, clutching his stomach. “Me too, how about we call it a night? Thanks for your help, Isak, it means the world to me. It really does.”

Isak’s cheeks warmed and he smiled. “No problem, Even, it was my pleasure.” He grabbed his things, and walked outside with a final “Bye!” and if anyone said that Isak walked to the bus stop with a spring in his step, they wouldn’t necessarily be wrong.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> number fem (fine frøkner)

“Guys! I’m so glad you all made it here!”

Isak was bleary eyed, slumped in a chair, clutching a cup of the strongest coffee known to man and staring up at Even on stage, who was far too enthusiastic for this hour.

“Barely. Why the fuck did you start rehearsals three hours early?” Someone muttered, nursing a tray of four coffees from Macca’s that Isak thought were more for show than anything else.

“Because I stayed up all night tweaking the script! I’m just trying to focus a little more on the love and I don’t think it’s sad enough to be a captivating story so I fiddled with some things and need to you all to look at them, see how they work!” Even spoke loudly, unperturbed by the harshness of the extra’s tone. He started handing out the sheets of paper, which looked even thicker than the whole original script for some reason, and barely stopped for breath as he continued explaining things with a huge smile.

“As I said, it wasn’t captivating enough. I changed the ending, so that Merlin dies in the mission after Arthur realises his feelings for him and it just has a more profound effect on the audience in that-” 

“Woah, what the fuck?” Isak exclaimed. “That’s a complete upheaval of everything you’ve had planned from the beginning. You wanted to give them a happy ending unlike the original tales.”

“Well now I don’t, Isak, try to keep up. Merlin dies and Arthur is wracked with grief, and - oh, yeah, it’s Arthur’s fault that Merlin dies because Merlin jumps in front of him, and Arthur believes that he could have saved him if only he was a little more careful. But yes, Arthur is wracked with grief and has to live with that. He wants to kill himself for years after but he can’t abandon his kingdom so he divorces Guinevere and...”

Five minutes ago, Isak was slumped in the chair, barely awake and paying little attention. Now, he was leaning forward, mouth agape, shocked and stunned at what he was hearing. 

Even didn’t stop talking. He went on and on, turning his once beautiful script about love and acceptance into a dystopia of sorts, changing the consequences of everything that would have happened and turning them sour. 

Isak noticed Yousef frowning, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. He was clutching his cardboard coffee cup tightly, biting his lip. He looked almost scared, Isak thought, which was a bit of an overreaction. Isak presumed this was just a whole joke.

Yousef spoke then, interrupting both Even’s spiel of death and horror and Isak’s train of thought with a “Hey Even, come into the office with me?”

Even rolled his eyes and looked like he was about to object, but Yousef said “It’s about the play,” and turned.

Even tried to finish his thought whilst climbing down from the stage and walking away, ending up shouting instructions over his shoulder before the door slammed behind him and the room was plunged into silence. 

“What the fuck was that about?” Said the girl playing Guinevere, Emma Larzen. “Are we putting those changes into the actual play or not?”

“Let’s read over them before deciding anything. Besides, it’s all up to Even and Yousef anyway.”

There were a few murmurs of affirmation before everyone heaved up their giant wads of paper.

“Fuck, he printed the whole play again? Even the unchanged bits? What the fuck, Even?”

“What unchanged bits? He’s made everything contain so much foreshadowing it’s obvious what’s going to happen. Here, page eighty two, there’s a goddamn song called A Death by the   
Blade, this is bullshit. Although, I gotta commend him for doing this in one night. That’s some impressive shit.”

Everyone shook their heads in disbelief and continued reading, trying to wrap their heads around what could have made Even do this before the man himself came back out of the office, frowning and looking irritable.

He climbed up on the stage and picked up a microphone from the floor and held it to his mouth without even turning it on. 

“I’m taking a holiday, guys, I’ll be back in a few weeks, no need to worry. My, quite frankly brilliant, changes to the script are to be disregarded, on the advice of Yousef Acar, our almighty God and ruler of this play.”

Even dropped the microphone, splaying his fingers, and grabbed his bag, walking quickly to the door. Yousef looked somewhat disappointed, mixed with an emotion Isak couldn’t name. His expression was quickly washed away by one of fear as he shouted “Oh fuck!” and sprinted to the door, after Even. 

“Need me to drive you home?” Yousef’s voice called out into the rain. “It’s cold and wet and the traffic is bad, Even, let me help-”

He was cut off by muffled complaints and he sighed, closing the door. Leaning his head against the window pane, he took no notice of the absolute confusion the cast displayed and simply walked back into the office, dismissing everyone with a wave of his hand and a “go home guys.” 

 

Everyone stood up and started wandering out the door, carrying their unfinished coffees and chatting amongst themselves about what in the name of fuck that was, but Isak stayed behind.

He’d like to think he knew Even a little better than the others by now, merely because of their easy banter and discussions about the play, and the way his heart sped up when Even smiled and the fact Even always seemed to be super impressed with Isak’s portrayal of Arthur, claiming it was always exactly how he’d imagined him.

The auditorium was suddenly enveloped in darkness, the automatic lights turning off, and Isak pulled out his phone flashlight to guide him through the chairs to the room with the light still on inside it.

He knocked, was greeted with a “come in,” and then an “Isak? What’re you still doing here?”

Isak took a deep breath. “I came to ask what was up with Even. He wasn’t himself and I just wanted to make sure everything is okay.”

Yousef gave a sad smile. “Things will be fine, Even will be okay. You don’t need to worry yourself, Isak, he’s just taking a small break from directing. I’ll take over things in the interim.”

“But-”

“It’s not my place to tell you what’s going on, just that it is serious, but it won’t be forever. I will tell Even you were concerned, if you like, but it’s up to him to tell you about this. Capiche?”   
There was a finality to Yousef’s tone that Isak could sense, that made him decide not to argue. Instead, he merely nodded and told him to give Even his best wishes. Yousef smiled and Isak walked out even more confused and worried than he had been before.

 

They were called in late that afternoon, given time to go back to sleep before rehearsals. “Okay, guys, the script calls for a crossfade. The lights on the left go down, so Isak can exit and head to the dressers, and the lights on the right divert the attention to Nimeuh’s prophecies.”

Yousef was sitting in Even’s chair, books and papers piled neatly beside him with the script turned to the correct page. It had a few neat notes on it, but was otherwise spotless. The compact way everything was stored made the table look huge, unnecessary. It was a drastic change from what Isak was used to, as Even used every inch of the space, pens and papers littered with scribbles and there was always something else, scripts weighed down by books weighed down by coffee mugs. It was a mess but it worked.  
Isak missed it.

“Merlin then upstages Nimueh by waking up in a cold sweat, and Nimeuh fades out before it’s a DBO. That’s the intermission.”

“Has Nimueh been mentioned before now?” Isak called, raising his hand to get Yousef’s attention.

“Nope. Merlin will try and figure out who she is before going to Arthur who remembers that name from childhood games with her. It’s then let out that she’s evil yada yada yada, end scene.”

Isak nodded. Eva, the actress playing Nimeuh, was one of his best friends. They’d fought a little in university - they were both going through some shit- but they’d made up, which Isak was ever grateful for. They’d tried out for the play with high hopes but low expectations and were ecstatic when they’d both been accepted. Eva always loved playing the villains, whilst Isak was more drawn toward the heroes with tragic backstories. 

Yousef clapped his hands. “We’ve got to stay on schedule guys, come on, we’ll do another run through of this scene once more before moving to page ninety four.”

There was a big discrepancy in the directing styles of Yousef and Even. Yousef was orderly, a rulebook director, rigid in his ways. Even directed on the fly, using his gut instincts to completely change what had already been written in the script. It was messy and confusing, but it often produced incredible results and Isak loved it. It was an adventure, directing with Even. It was so much fun, and Isak really really missed it.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> six in danish (and probably norwegian too idk) is seks, which sounds an awful lot like sex, doesn't it? ;)

Following Yousef’s style of directing was a tough adjustment, not only on Isak but on the entirety of the cast. So when Even waltzed in the door and announced that he’d returned, everyone let out a loud cheer. Yousef laughed and stepped down from the stage, bowing slightly and letting Even take his rightful place.

“I’ve missed you all,” he began. “Now, let’s keep going! You’ve all gotta show me what Yousef has taken you through and how much I need to fix.”

Everyone laughed, drowning out Yousef’s “hey!” and the general good mood increased the quality of everyone’s performance. It was an incredible atmosphere.

It both surprised and endeared Isak that the very presence of Even could do all of this.

“Merlin,” Isak convinced a fond exasperation to manifest in his tone. “Merlin, you can’t come with me this time. I’m sorry, but I have to go alone.”

Julian stood up. “That’s bullshit, Arthur. This trip is far more dangerous than any other you’ve been on, which is why-“

“Why you can’t go, Merls!” Isak stomped his foot. “You’re right! This is dangerous! And I’m terrified! I can’t have the added stress of you being in the line of fire or I won’t cope! I need to be level headed when I’m fighting Nimueh, or I don’t stand a chance!”

“You don’t stand a chance either way!”

Isak scoffed. “If don’t stand a chance then why would this convince me to let you come? If I won’t be able to defeat her what could you possibly add to the situation? A shitty wisecrack? Improperly cleaned armour?”

Julian looked seriously hurt. He was a damn good actor.

“I…” He looked to the floor. “I…”

“Spit it out!” Isak shouted. Arthur was no longer in the mood for games, for hesitation, and he had to make it obvious.

“I… I have magic, Arthur.”

Isak’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. He feigned surprise and slight horror and confusion, calling on the memory of when Julian told him he was interested in him.

“I…” He stuttered.

Julian’s eyes glazed over. “Spit it out, Arthur.” His voice held none of the venom that Isak’s had, instead it was merely…

Resigned.

Defeated.

No trace of panic, no trace of humour.

Merlin no longer believed Arthur would respect him, would protect him. He believed he would be shunned and that Arthur would no longer love him.

No… That couldn’t do.

Because despite the revelation, there was something that still made Arthur feel terrible that Merlin felt despair.

“Merls…”

Hope flared in Merlin’s eyes at the familiar nickname, but it was quickly switched as he took in the look in Arthur’s eyes.

Betrayal. A single tear slipped down his cheek, then it all sunk in.

Merlin was a sorcerer.

Merlin had been lying to him.

Five years. Five years he’d been fooled, five years he’d been lied to, five years he’d been getting to know someone whom he really didn’t know at all.

He sunk down on the four-poster, clutching the pole for dear life.

“Why…” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “Why did you lie?”

That clearly wasn’t the question Merlin was expecting. He wiped his cheeks before uttering a single damning sentence in a breathy, broken voice. “I didn’t know if you’d feel the need to kill me or not, and I didn’t want to put you in that situation.”

And Arthur was sobbing, his heart breaking. Tears spilled over his green eyes, and as he looked up to Merlin’s brown ones, it was almost as if the dam had broken, they couldn’t hold back anymore, and then they were kissing.

It was right, and it was wrong. It was brilliant and unsettling. When Arthur finally broke the kiss and leaned his head against Merlin’s shoulder and let out a heavy breath.

A whispered “I love you, Merls,” was amplified by the theatre microphones, and Isak turned to face the audience, tear-streaked face and all.

 

There was a moment of silence amongst the audience before suddenly a massive round of applause from the other cast members and crew broke out. When Isak turned his gaze toward Even, however, his face was pure stone. No one else seemed perturbed as he put on a smile and gave a meek cheer for the pair just like everyone else, but when he turned away and Isak’s gaze followed, he knew there was something wrong.

Even called a break before standing up abruptly and heading out the side door. Isak, determined to find out what was wrong, followed him despite Julian’s protests that he should stay and celebrate a bit.

They ended up in the cast locker room, where they shoved their clothes before each rehearsal. Even was sitting dejectedly on one of the benches, face in hands, and Isak’s breath hitched.

Even looked around, startled and a bit panicked, but his expression hardened slightly as he beheld Isak.

“What do you want?” The words were clipped, and they hurt more than Isak wanted to let on.

“What’s wrong, Even?” He took a step closer, but stopped as a muscle twitched almost imperceptibly in Even’s jaw.

“Nothing. I just… Headache.” Isak saw through the blatant lie, but bit his lip to keep from retorting.

It seemed the wrong thing to do. Even’s eyes instantly travelled to his reddened lips, causing Isak’s cheeks to emulate a similar shade.

“I…” he stuttered, but Even crossed the room before he could finish and had his hands on Isak’s cheeks.

“I can’t watch that, Isak. I just-” He cut himself off, and without warning, pressed his lips to Isak’s, open mouthed and wet. Before Isak could ask him what when why how he was backed against the wall, a dull ‘oof’ filling the room as his back slid up the wall, resting at a higher vantage point than Even.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Even broke his mouth from Isak’s, staring into his eyes. Sky blue had turned ravenous black, but Isak didn’t find it scary in the slightest.

Hands raked up Isak’s sides, finding a home in his blonde curls. Isak hummed, head tipping back and mouth falling open, and Even took the opportunity to attack his neck.

Isak moaned, hands winding up beneath the layers of Even’s clothes, fingers tracing stomach muscles and falling to cup his ass cheeks. Even leant back, groaning, and Isak recaptured his lips in a kiss.

“I really like you too, you fucking prat.” Isak stole a line from the script, a line he knew Even had written, and smiled as Even shone, both with delight and the famous sex-glow.

Isak felt honoured that he’d given Even that look without even having had to remove his clothes, and he smiled so hard his cheeks started hurting, all because he knew he looked the same.

“God, Even, I like you so fucking much.”

Even though he’d just admitted it seconds before, Even’s eyes still widened, his jaw going slack as though he couldn’t quite believe it.

Isak buried his face into Even’s neck. “Shut up,” he whined.

Even spluttered. “I didn’t say anything! Isak!”

Isak looked up shyly. “But you looked at me in that way and god-“

Isak raised his hand to Even’s cheek, caressing his thumb along his prominent jawbone. He kissed Even, deeply, then when Even moaned he pulled away and smirked.

“We should get back to work. Co-lead actor and director going missing - won’t take long to find out why.”

He wheedled himself out of Even’s grasp and slid down the wall, (that’s right, he was still on the fucking wall) and sauntered away, standing by the door, leaving Even to deal with his somewhat awkward predicament. 

A casual glance in the mirror and a sly smirk from Isak had Even deeming himself looking irrevocably like he’d just been fucked, so he gave up on altering his appearance and held his head high, walking past Isak with a massive smile.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im still a'goin

“Hmmmm, Even come back to bed,” Isak mumbled.

“I have to make you food! I heard that stomach, there’s no way I’m letting you starve any longer. Eggs and bacon - give me ten minutes and I’ll bring it back here for you.”

Isak smirked before gripping Even’s arm and pulling him back onto the bed, albeit on top of the covers rather than curled up under them and next to him. Oh well, he tried.

Even landed with a shriek and a laugh, instantly grinning. “Oh, you’ll pay for that!” And then he was tickling Isak all over. Isak, giggling and screaming happily, pushed Even off the bed and he fell to the floor. He stood up, faux outrage on his face, which quickly changed to an I-told-you-so expression as Isak’s stomach rumbled, far louder than before.

“I’ve changed my mind. I want breakfast now.”

“You’re a salty, selfish little fucker, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Now food, Even, you were so desperate to cook for me before.”

Even flipped him off while walking out of the room backwards - quite suavely in Isak’s opinion- before he bumped into Eskild as he opened the door without knocking, as was his custom.

“Hi Even, how are you?” Eskild asked, smiling.

“I’m hurt, Eskild. Isak is very selfish.”

“I’m well aware of that, but he’s also a slob and can’t look after himself so we have the pleasure. Which brings me to my reason for being here in the first place. Baby gay, do you need anything from the supermarket?”

“Supermarket? Eskild it’s like six, why are you going so early?”

Eskild raised an eyebrow, and Isak checked his phone.

“Oh. It’s midday. Okay. Uh, nothing that I can think of, but thanks.”

“So I’ll just refill your beer and potato chip stocks? You probably need some more shampoo, too, it’s been a month since I bought some of that cheap shit for you last.”

Isak winked. “You know me so well. I’ll pay you back when you get home!”

“No you won’t!” Eskild called over his shoulder, having walked out of the room around the word shit.

 

“So,” Even plopped right back on the bed next to Isak, ignoring his disgruntled noise and cuddling up next to him. “How long have you been living with these guys? Because I thought you’d moved in after living in dorms at uni, or possibly a bit earlier, but the relationship you have with them, the camaraderie, it kind of sparked an interest.”

Isak was surprised that Even really noticed. “Oh, um, I’ve lived here since I was sixteen.”

“Shit, Isak, why so long?”

“Ah well.” He lowered his eyes, fiddling with the doona. He knew, he really knew that this conversation would come up eventually, but he was having such a good time.

“Um...” He started, realising he’d left the room silent for too long.

“Isak, you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want. It’s alright, it’s in the past baby.” The concern in Even’s voice solidified Isak’s wish to tell him, and he shook his head. “Do you want those scrambled eggs now?” 

“No, come sit back down. You should know.”

Even sat hesitantly, an unsure expression furrowing his eyebrows, but he remained silent, allowing Isak to take control of the situation.

“My…” Isak gulped. “My pappa left when I was fifteen. My mamma… My mamma’s schizophrenic, Even, but we had no idea. She was just acting so weird, and it was scary. She was throwing things at me and at dad and she didn’t want to get help, Even, and pappa couldn’t take it, didn’t want to, and he-” Even’s name was like a lifeline - a ceaseless torrent of heart wrenching words interspersed with the one thing that made Isak whole again.

“Breathe, Isak. Breathe.” Isak’s shoulders were wrapped in Even’s arms, calming circles were rubbed into his back, and his panic faltered slightly.

Isak let out a sob, hastily rubbed his face, and continued. “He left because mamma was too hard to deal with, and I had to look after her. I was fifteen, I had no idea what to do, she wasn’t diagnosed and had no medication-” He choked, and Even whispered calming words into his ear.

“You can stop at any time, baby. It’s okay.”

Isak nodded. He knew.

“He left money, but it didn’t matter, I couldn’t look after her. I left, I ran away at fifteen, and was couch hopping for a year until Eskild found me, shitfaced, in a gay bar. Apparently I ‘wanted someone to fuck the pain away’ but he just brought me here and I stayed in the basement until Noora moved out.”

Even was silent, almost as though he knew Isak was going to say more.

“I wish I’d treated her better. Now that she’s gotten help and I know what the fuck’s going on with her it seems so much less daunting. I really regret doing what I did.”

Even squeezed his shoulders and placed a feather light kiss on his forehead. “You were fifteen. She was supposed to be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. It’s okay, you did what you had to do. There was nothing more you could have done if she didn’t have medication.”

Isak nodded, then broke into tears, clutching at Even’s chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, and Isak himself wasn’t even sure if it was directed at Even or not.

 

Eventually Isak’s crying subsided, and it was only when his stomach gave another loud grumble that he and Even decided to get out of bed and relocate to the kitchen. Scrambled eggs sizzled in the hot pan, and Isak giggled at Even, who was dancing along to some shitty song on the radio.

“Gabrielle is brilliant, Isak, you’re completely in the wrong.”

“Uh, no? It’s shitty pop music, I don’t like that stuff.”

“Oh do you like, how do you say it, Naaas?” Even poked Isak’s cheek.

“Fuck off! I was trying to impress you by saying I knew the bands that you liked. It was a sweet gesture, don’t fucking ruin it.”

Isak was grinning, his meltdown from before all but forgotten.

“So… since you told me something important about yourself, since you trusted me enough to tell me about your past…” Even took a breath. “I thought I should tell you something that you really need to know, if we’re going to take this relationship further.”

Even wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Isak felt a pit of worry evolving in his chest.

“Even? Is everything okay?”

He gave a half-hearted smile. “For now,” he whispered, and the clenching pain in Isak’s stomach loosened somewhat.

Isak took Even’s hands, sliding one up to cup his cheek.

“You can do it,” he whispered, placing a chaste kiss on Even’s lips. Even took a breath, bracing himself.

“Do you know what bipolar disorder is?” He asked, finally meeting Isak’s eyes.

“Yes, kind of. My friend Magnus, his mamma’s bipolar,” Isak said, understanding where this was probably going, but refusing to acknowledge it until Even clearly stated it.

“Do you know how it works, what constitutes being bipolar?” His questions, had they come from someone else, would have irked Isak, but the way Even asked them, simply fishing for information and not being condescending in the slightest, kept Isak from making a snappy retort.

“Mostly. It’s basically mood swings, but a lot more intense? If I simplify it to the very basics, isn’t that what it is?”

Even looked slightly calmer now, and nodded. “Yeah, that’s basic but about right, Isak. I… I’m bipolar.”

Isak couldn’t pretend that it didn’t hurt, but his precursory questions had lessened the blow enough for him to respond. “Okay.”

Even was silent, which confused Isak until he looked up and saw the fear in his eyes, the terror that Isak would leave him, would cast him aside.

Isak found the idea so abhorrent, and he realised something that he should have a long time ago.

“I love you, Even Bech Næsheim. I love you so much.” Even’s blue eyes widened, but Isak plowed on. “I’ve loved you since I first saw you, since I picked up those folders for you. Since I found out I was correct in you drinking your milky bullshit from Starbucks, and although that one was hard to forgive I love you in spite of your flaws, Even, in spite of your health. I’ll admit I know next to nothing about bipolar disorder. This… It won’t be easy, Even. I’ll research everything I can about it, but… I don’t know how it’s going to go. But I’m so fucking willing to give it a shot, give us a shot. I promise.”

Tears were slipping down Even’s face, and he kissed Isak, whispering “what did I do to deserve you, baby, I love you so much.”


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeet yeet motherfuckers

“I love you Isak.” Even was stroking his hand down Isak’s cheek, who was spent from a full day of rehearsal and then (multiple) long rounds of sex. Even seemed to be quite awake, however, climbing out of bed and pulling on a pair of trackies.

“Evy baby, what’re you doing?” Isak mumbled into his pillow, arms already missing Even’s warmth.

“Cooking, baby. I want some eggs and bacon. I’ll be five minutes.”

“But-” Isak looked at his phone, squinting at the light. “It’s one in the morning.”

“Exactly.” Even grinned, walking round to kiss Isak’s cheek. “I haven’t eaten in seven hours. I won’t be long.”

Isak smiled and promptly fell asleep, not waking when Even walked back in and laid back down.

 

“Isak! Let’s go!” Even was jostling Isak’s arm, waking him from his slumber. “It opens in a few hours, we have to leave!”

Isak woke, looking around tiredly. “Even, the fuck? It’s still dark out.”

“This is Norway, in winter. It’s always dark out. Come on, Isak, I found something for us to do.”

Isak, too tired to argue, climbed out of bed. A plate with a sandwich and a mug of coffee was thrust into his hands by Even, who then started picking his clothes up off the floor and checking them to see if they were dirty.

“Even?” 

He looked up, still clutching hoodies and jeans. “Hmm? Oh! I’m checking if you can wear them now, or if they’re filthy. These are fine, hurry up and eat.”

Isak skulled his coffee, letting the burning liquid slide down his throat, and he threw on the clothes as quickly as he could.

“Even? What’s going on?” His questions remained unanswered, aside from vague little comments that didn’t narrow down much at all. “Even?”

“We’re going on a romantic getaway, Isak! Just for the day!”

Isak still didn’t follow, but it was fine. 

Isak burrowed more into his coat for warmth, walking faster to catch up with Even who was fast approaching the intersection, but - oh shit.

“EVEN!” He shouted. Isak grabbed the hood of Even’s jumper and pulled him back from the road, as he hadn’t seen a car that was careening around the corner.

“Fuck! Baby, look where you’re going!” Isak was breathless, heart pounding.

It had happened in the space of a second.

“I’m sorry baby, I love you. I just didn’t see it.” Even made a point to over emphasise looking around the corner for any cars, before crossing the street. Isak shook his head and followed, a bad feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.

 

When they finally arrived, they jiggled the door until it popped open. That set off warning bells in Isak’s head, but when they walked through the foyer all thoughts fled Isak’s head as he took in everything he was seeing. It was all so beautiful. There was a giant lake, with the bluest water, and trees and boulders everywhere. It looked like a fairytale, with the waterfall in the corner and the picnic tables beside the water, and Even wasted no time in kissing Isak fiercely before jumping in.

“What is this place?” Isak wondered aloud. “You’d have no idea this is fake at all!” 

“Except that it’s Norway, and winter, and the water is so warm.”

Isak laughed. “Except for that.” He followed Even’s example, stripping down to his underwear, and he jumped in, falling right beside Even and soaking him with a giant splash. Even yelled, and the moment Isak came up for air he soaked him again. They played around for a while until Isak called for a truce, laughing and clutching his side.

Even agreed, wading over to Isak slowly. He reached out a hand to cup Isak’s cheek, pulling him into a kiss.

It started out soft and gentle, before Even deepened it. He licked at Isak’s lips, asking for entry, and when Isak granted it he instantly pushed his tongue into Isak's mouth, exploring every inch of it. Isak broke off, partly for air and partly to ask “What if other people come? We can’t be making out in a public place.”

“I. Don’t. Care.” Even punctuated each word with a kiss that made Isak’s toes curl, and as his underwear started to feel tight he stopped complaining and rolled with it.

Even was quick in pulling down Isak’s pants, and taking a hold of his dick. Isak moaned into Even’s mouth, gripping his shoulders tightly. He started trailing his hands down Even’s back, chest, stomach, until he reached his hips, his arse, his cock. His deliciously plump cock. Isak pulled down Even’s underwear and watched his dick spring up through the water. It was a different sight to sex in a bed, he could admit, but it was very attractive nonetheless. Isak placed his hand on top of Even, and watched him throw his head back, droplets of water trailing down his pale neck and splashing back into the lake.

Isak groaned, latching his mouth onto it. Even sighed in his ear, arching to give him even more space. Isak licked a stripe down his neck, from jaw to collarbone, and Even shuddered underneath him. Isak found his pulse point and sucked, producing a massive purple bruise that looked like a flower spreading across his throat.

Isak smiled, proud of his handiwork. As much as he would have loved to continue sucking bruise after bruise into Even's pale skin, he desperately wanted to get his hands on him instead. And get his hands on him he certainly did.

 

It wasn’t long until they were both spent, lying on their backs and just floating in the water. Isak had his eyes closed, listening to the water splashing about and the trees rustling in the artificial wind that ran through the building. 

“That was nice.” He whispered. Even hummed his affirmative, pushing himself gently closer to Isak. 

“Wanna go again?” Even suggested. Isak laughed, but when met with silence he opened his eyes to find Even’s staring at him, dark with arousal.

“Even, how the fuck do you have the energy for that? Let’s just go get some breakfast, okay?”

Even nodded, swimming elegantly to the edge of the pool. Isak watched him glide through the water appreciatively, pulling his pants straight over his lithe body as his underwear had sunk to the floor of the pool, along with Isak’s. Isak groaned, forcing himself to wade after Even and leave the pool the way they’d come.

 

They were eating eggs and bacon at a local breakfast bar, one of the few places open at six o’clock in the morning. Isak was scrolling through Instagram when Even stopped bouncing his leg and spoke.

“Let’s do that for real.”

“Hmm?” Isak looked at Even questioningly.

“That pool. I know a resort in Bali we can go to, it’ll be so romantic, let’s get away for three days! We’re still back in time for the play, it’s all okay!”

Chuckling, Isak rolled his eyes and went back to his phone. Even picked his up as well, and started typing ferociously.

“Look! Oslo to Denpasar, flights as little as 4499 kroner! Let’s do it!”

Isak’s jaw dropped. “You’re not serious? We can’t afford that, Even, and we have too many rehearsals to attend! Even, what’s wrong? Why are you so flighty and impulsive all of a sudden?”

Even’s eyes went from excited and bright to scared within a second, and Isak’s blood ran cold as he remembered a certain phrase from wikipedia.

 

People suffering from manic episodes may act impulsively, spending lots of money on things they’ve decided in the heat of the moment. They’re not very good at keeping up with prior engagements, and often fail to see the flaws in their plans.

 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK.

“Even…” Isak’s throat was collapsing, his eyes tearing up. This answer could confirm his worst fears, but he had to know. He had to, for both his sake and Even’s.

“Even… Are you manic? Are you having an episode?”

Even’s eyes glazed over as he took in Isak’s words, and raised a hand to his mouth. “I… I don’t fucking know!” he whispered, staring at Isak with abject horror and fear. “Oh of fucking course I am. How could I not even realise Jesus fucking Christ oh my god!” Even laughed hysterically. “I’m manic! What the fuck!”

As Even lashed out at himself, and Isak tried to calm him down, tears spilled down his cheeks. His perfect morning with Even was ruined, and now that he knew what was going on he couldn’t believe he’d missed all the little signs.

“Let’s get home okay, baby?” Isak said, leaving a 200 kroner note on the table and taking Even’s hand in his own. 

 

Weeks had passed, and it was still hard. It was so so tough, and it hurt Isak so much.

Even was curled up in his bed, gazing blankly at the wall. Barely blinking, plate of limp eggs Isak had made three hours prior untouched on the bedside table, Isak could see Even deteriorating.

Isak was sat on the edge of the bed, dried tears littering his cheeks. His phone was nearly dead, but Isak couldn’t be bothered to plug it in. He was bone weary, every nerve ending in his body both numb and alert. He was exhausted, and scared, and helpless.

Isak felt powerless. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done, looking after Even in this state. He was doing everything he could to help, reading about depression, reading about the differences between regular depression and depression after mania. How to get him to eat without force, how to get him to take his meds, how to get him to communicate what he needs.

If the FBI Agent watching me meme is true, Isak thought, then they’re going to be seriously concerned.

As his phone died in his hands, Isak stood up. He walked out to the kitchen, grabbed two muesli bars and plugged his phone in on the counter. As it blinked bleakly, Isak couldn’t help but empathise with it.

Sad, yeah.


	9. Chapter Nine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wondered where chapter nine was before i realised i acidentally skipped it in the google doc where i wrote this. im a terrible whovian i am so sorry

The audience was waiting with bated breath as the lights flared up. Isak was standing centre stage with his back to the masses, red cloak shimmering with a dignified elegance one typically associated with Arthur Pendragon. He raised his head, blonde curls splattered with blood, the tip of his sword resting in the fake grass.

The silver of the blade was dulled by the red smears of what no one had to know was paint, and if you looked closely you could see the tiredness in Isak’s shoulders, holding himself upright to take the last word despite being on the verge of collapse.

“You thought you could beat me, huh?” He sneered, pointing his sword in the direction of his fallen foe, splayed on his back at Isak’s feet.

The Mighty Nimeuh had been defeated, and for once she wasn’t concealing her fear. Her face was twisted in agony as she propped herself up on one shoulder, face turned up towards Isak’s but clearly visible to the audience.

“I-” Eva’s voice came out high and broken, and she cleared her throat. “Arthur, you can’t- can’t kill me. Remember? 

“Remember what? As children, how you manipulated and forced me into your silly little games? As teenagers, how you shut me out the moment you turned sixteen, becoming reclusive and dabbling in dark magic? As adults, how you tried to kill me and everyone I love?”

“Not everyone dear,” Eva laughed. “I wasn’t about to kill myself now, was I?”

Isak’s expression was stoic. “Everyone.” As Eva’s face fell, he continued. “I once was under the impression you were my best friend. You were everything to me, we were practically siblings. But now, now I have people who care about me, properly, and who love me for me. So get rid of the idea that I still hold affection for you, because it will, and has, been your downfall.”

Stabbing Eva in the heart was tough, even if it was only pretend. The plastic pierced a small bag of red paint concealed behind Eva’s clothes, and Isak threw the sword on the ground. It clanged, echoing through the cinema, and as Nimueh died, Arthur sank to his knees and cried. 

Isak’s tears were hallowing. He used everything that had happened the past few weeks, all the different emotions running into each other and changing so fast, and he let it all out. Isak was there for around thirty seconds before Julian came running in.

Arthur cried harder, tears of relief flooding his body. Merlin was safe. Merlin was okay. They sat there, hugging and crying, as the front lights faded and all you could see was the silhouette of two men leaning against each other, holding each other for support, and the curtains closed.

 

It was a standing ovation. Tears were streaming down the faces of the audience and they were clapping and cheering. It was deafening, but all Isak could see was Even and his blinding smile as they met backstage.

“You were brilliant, baby. I love you so much.” Even kissed Isak on the lips, hard, in front of everyone. Isak broke off to hold Even’s cheek and bask in his grin. 

“You’re smiling,” he said, and ran his hands through Even’s hair. “You’re smiling so much, oh my god.”

Even nodded. “Yes, I am. I’m so happy, because you did so well, and I’m so proud of you.”

Isak blushed. “I’m proud of you too, baby.” They kissed once more, and only broke apart when Julian cleared his throat.

“Oh, fuck,” Isak muttered, earning a slightly caged laugh from Even. “Uhm, whoops?” Isak looked back and forth between everyone’s stunned faces and Even, who was doing the same, before they both said, “We’re together now,” at the same time.

“So… yeah,” Isak muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

There was a moment of silence, before Yousef said “Finally!” and everyone hummed in agreement.

“It was so obvious! Oh my god you two have been pining after each other since Isak insulted your coffee Even, Jesus Christ.”

“What?? You knew?” Isak looked affronted, but Even was cackling silently beside him.

“I love our friends,” Even whispered.

“And I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, that's it! Took me too long to write for what the end result is, but hey. Hope you enjoyed, drop a comment, please i need validation anyway thanks for reading!!!


End file.
